


Victims of War

by LadyMcSnape



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMcSnape/pseuds/LadyMcSnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva loved a man who was tagged cold, reserved and a former Death Eater. Loving such is difficult. Yet upon Snape's betrayal, she doubted difficult would even be the word to describe the situation of loving the man who was now their - her - enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victims of War

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I never own the characters. They belong to the brilliant author, J.K. Rowling. Italized words are borrowed from her book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Hogwarts had never been colder during the long years she had been living safe inside its walls. It was all so sudden. The enormous castle, which she deemed her second home, no longer offered security and warmth. The ground on which one of the classrooms was supposed to have stood mighty now crumbled to pieces and dust. The corridor she was passing through which seemed like yesterday had accommodated loud and loitering fifth years, was now deserted. It was dark, and the atmosphere hung with grief like never before.

It was all suffocating her. She hated how all of this made the lump in her throat swell. A lot of things had happened tonight, but one thing in particular she did not wish to comprehend or to even believe was real. The battle brought great impact to all of them, and surely, Hagrid must have suffered its full force. She blinked furiously and gripped her wand tightly as if that would distract her from the rushing offensive thoughts dawning within her head which were definitely not helping her to stay in control. She quickened her steps. She could not bear to be out there one minute more. She rounded a corner, and she was pleased for the first time to see the huge wooden door that opened for her many times before when she would visit its sick occupants.

She entered the Hospital Wing.

 _"Molly and Arthur are on their way," Minerva said. The audience in the room roused themselves as though coming out of trances, turning again to look at Bill, or else to rub their own eyes, shake their heads._ She directed her gaze to Harry and inquired before she could dread the answer, _"Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid, you were with Professor Dumbledore when he – when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some – "_

_"Snape killed Dumbledore," said Harry._

_She stared at him for a moment, then swayed alarmingly; Madam Pomfrey, who seemed to have pulled herself together, ran forward, conjuring a chair from thin air, which she pushed under McGonagall._

Harry saying it made everything believably true as if it all was not. She just couldn't –wouldn't – fathom how Dumbledore could be betrayed by…

_"Snape," repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. "We all wondered… but he trusted… always… Snape… I can't believe it…."_

The chaos inside her clamored to pour out, but she steeled herself, not wanting to show how much the event affected her. She, too, had trusted him. She did wonder, a lot to say, but she still believed that there was something more to a man who was a former Death Eater. She had thought they would fight the battle together… She started to lose a little control over her surfacing tears.

_"Snape was a high accomplished Occlumens," said Lupin, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. "We always knew that."_

_"But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!" whispered Tonks. "I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn't…"_

_"He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape," murmured Professor McGonagall, now dabbing at the corners of her leaking eyes with a tartan-edged handkerchief. "I mean… with Snape's history… of course people were bound to wonder… but Dumbledore told me explicitly that Snape's repentance was absolutely genuine… Wouldn't hear a word against him!"_

_"I'd love to know what Snape told him to convince him," said Tonks._

Harry quickly jumped at the opportunity to explain everything. _Nobody asked how he knew this. All of them seemed to be lost in horrified shock, trying to digest the monstrous truth of what had happened._

Minerva wasn't sure if she could handle it all in one night. She had been shocked twice already, and another would be enough to wreck her. She was so confused. How could she have been so blind? Yet, in those moments she'd had with Snape, she'd gotten implications from their discussions of his utter allegiance to their side. There were times when she had met the real Snape, between talks during a game of chess or even friendly arguments over Quidditch. He had gained her respect, and later, she came to care for him. She even… cared so much…. loved him more than a friend. She, maybe, did not know herself at all. If only she did…

And what she did ago, she remembered, was logical for her to chastise herself. _"This is all my fault," said Professor McGonagall suddenly. She looked disoriented, twisting her wet handkerchief in her hands. "My fault. I sent Filius to fetch Snape tonight, I actually sent for him to come and help us! If I hadn't alerted Snape to what was going on, he might never have joined forces with the Death Eaters. I don't think he knew they were there before Filius told him. I don't think he knew they were coming."_

_"It isn't your fault, Minerva," said Lupin firmly. "We all wanted more help, we were glad to think Snape was on his way…."_

Surely. But she just couldn't fathom how it was not her fault. She was too trusting. She was too… caring. She paused for a moment, her gaze fixed on the handkerchief she stopped twisting. The heartache she was then ignoring after Hagrid relayed to her the news grew stronger, and she absentmindedly balled her hands when tears seemed to surface dangerously.

"Professor…" called Hermione.

Minerva snapped out of her emotions and found everyone looking at her. Their faces bore grief, understanding and – when she turned to the witch who called her – sympathy and knowing. She dismissed the thought of Hermione knowing her dilemma and stood, and she was surprised her knees supported her well, even if what she felt inside seemed to suck out all of her energy.

"I'll leave you to the things that need to be taken care of and…" She looked at Hagrid.

 _"I've… I've done it, Professor," He choked. "M-moved him, Professor Dumbledore."_ And Hagrid lost himself to choking sobs.

Professor McGonagall was careful not to purse her lips disapprovingly. She should get out of here before Hagrid could infect her.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I shall meet the Ministry when they get here, but before then, I would like to have a quick word with you Potter," said Minerva and went out after she bid them good-night with curt a nod and with Harry trailing after her.

_VoW_

After coaxing Potter to tell her about Dumbledore's orders, which was futile because she had not gotten anything from him, Minerva dwelt in solitude inside her room. She sat sullenly, hugging her legs close. Her room was cold in spite of the crackling flames from the fireplace, or maybe it was just her. She was partly relieved to finally be there alone, hence, she could not trust herself surrounded with people for the meantime, yet partly also, dreaded her isolation since she would have to face her agony. She never thought she would have to experience the most depressing part of her life and most depressing was an understatement. She buried her head on her knees and closed her eyes. A life without Dumbledore… a figure of a father always there to make them secured, a genius who could contend with the darkest wizard alive, a headmaster who always seemed to know what to do and a friend who always annoyed or delighted people with lemon drops. She stifled a sob. And there was Snape.

Snape.

She had not referred to the man by his first name for the entire night, she noticed curiously, and it was better. It was only then that she felt angry. A traitor should not even have one, she thought bitterly. She was furious, so furious that she would want to break anything in her office, but she thought against it. She felt so betrayed, so caught unprepared to face an even more complicated situation.

  
Yes, she was in love with the wizard. She had realized it out of the blue one time they'd had a glaring battle over a thing she couldn't anymore remember. Her eyes had widened in shock with the realization, and she'd lost the battle when she looked down to avoid his penetrating glare. Snape was always keen to remind her of that loss, and she was always keen to remember how his obsidian eyes were beautiful at that moment. They would occasionally enjoy each other's company strolling in the school grounds or in a game of chess, ten galleons betting over the Quiddith cup or, in rare times, a treat of two mugs of butterbeer in Hogsmeade. They became close to each other, and she thought they had something, not that she was expecting romance, but a special bond of friendship between them. When her heart started to beat wildly, she tried to hush it down. She tried to vanish her feelings, but try as she might, her heart would not listen to her at all. Or maybe, she did not try hard enough. Now that she was loving an enemy, she doubted complicated was even the word.

She released her legs, for they were starting to numb. She stood and went to let herself fall to bed roughly. Her nose flared. She hated him. She really, really did, but she hated herself more and will much more if she won't expel this awful feeling fast. She felt disgusted. The anger began to surface again dangerously, and she clutched the sheets to keep herself from becoming berserk. Now it would be easy to get over this pathetic feeling, she thought, her anger would aid her. It had better. She suddenly felt tears streaming down her face, and she furiously wiped it with her hand. No, she should not shed tears. She has to be strong.

She's in war. She has to.

And she has to be strong enough to kill Severus Snape the next time they meet.


End file.
